Anna lies back on the blanket, her breathing is shallow. He lies with her looking at the stars.
"I have absolutely no idea how to feel about this? Rage? Relief? Sadness? Joy? It's all here. She’s probably vile?"
"I hope this doesn't piss you off, but I was worried about that too. When my parents left Charleston, they went to Atlanta and followed her around for a few days."
"Oh?"
"Are you mad?" he asks.
"A little yes but again relieved too. And?"
"She is a retired school teacher, widowed, no other children. She seems to live a pretty quiet life alone. She is only fifty-two."
"What do I do with this John? Drive to Atlanta this second? Forget it entirely? Set it aside until after the baby is born? This could be complicated. Do we need more complications?" Anna asks in earnest.
"I don't know Anna. I really don't know." He guides her head onto his shoulder. They watch the stars and lie there for a long time.
After crackers in the morning, Anna dresses for a run. She needs to get back into a routine. She grabs a banana and heads over to 516 knocking on the glass door. He is busy in the kitchen, marinating steaks for their dinner guests and slicing vegetables for the grill.
"I will never get over the sight of you in the kitchen. Sexiest man alive." She kisses him, plunging her hands into his pants.
"Whoa, whoa," he says laughing. “Big knife here! Are you going running?"
"I could be talked out of it," she says kissing his neck and tugging at the buttons on his shirt.
"Go run. Catch me on your way back."
"Okay party pooper," and she is out the door.
She runs two miles out on the beach and then back on the street. She prefers mixing the terrain. After, she kicks off her shoes and works her muscles through deep stretches. She feels good, more like herself. When she is done, she knocks hard and fast on John’s door and runs to his outside shower, stripping and cleaning up. After a minute, he finds her.
"Got your energy back today, I'm happy to see." Joining her takes all of ten seconds.
Later Anna types an email to Pemberley.
Pemberley, if you are still alive, your iPhone is within 8 inches of your hand. If you won't talk to me, that is okay, but I'm not done talking to you. John told me about my mother last night. I'm not sure what that means to me or my future, but I owe you a big debt - again. Pem, since Dylan got sick, you have been taking care of me. Please don't shut me out now. Please keep me in your life. I can handle this. I have no choice. Please let me.
Barbara and Joe arrive at seven o'clock sharp, alone since they left Isabella with a sitter. They hand John their new ceramic platter covered in meats, cheese, vegetables and homemade crackers. They are enthusiastic for some adult company. The heat of the late summer is loosening its grip and dinner on the deck is breezy. Barbara and John open the wine and pour between themselves. John declares he is on the wagon for the duration of the pregnancy.
"Not on my account, I hope," Anna says.
"For me. And for you a little," he admits.
They gossip about other year-rounders. Most of the artists and restaurant owners live at the other end of the island. Their stretch is mostly weekenders who own homes within a few hours’ drive, so the winter will be quiet. Joe and Barbara feel very fortunate to have John and Anna so close by. Eventually Lynn's name comes up and John shares his history with her.
"You are fucking kidding me man!" Joe exclaims. "I remember you. My family came for two weeks every July. Those nights on the beach, smoking pot with guitars playing Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains, are some of my best teenage summer memories."
"Holy shit! You were a skinny kid with a lot more hair then, right?" John laughs.
"Yeah a little," Barbara chimes in, rubbing his shiny head.
"I lost the hair, but I gained these babies." Joe kisses his bicep. "There are a few musicians around the island. We are thinking about starting a little band. Mostly acoustic. We have a few guitars. Tommy owns the bakery. He is a decent drummer. Steve, at Dock of the Bay, plays piano. He's getting it together. You still play?" Joe asks.
John quickly agrees to the first practice session at Dock of the Bay on Monday night.
"How old is Isabella?" Anna asks. "I think she might be close to Clara's age."
"She'll be three in December,” Barbara answers.
They realize Clara is just a few months younger than Isabella. Barbara and Joe are happy to have a companion for their daughter. A winter here could be isolating for her.
"When is she coming?" Joe asks. "How are you feeling about it?"
"Be careful, he's going to shrink you," Barbara jokes.
"Well, I'm excited see her. To reconnect. But I am a little worried about her connecting with me. I have literally no idea what I am doing as far as parenting a little girl. I’ve been away from her since she was six months old."
Anna lays her hand on his back.
"Do you love her?" Joe asks.
"Yes I do," John answers.
"That is all you need to know," Joe says.
"It can't be that simple. Potty training, car seats, preschools, boundaries, long division, and baggage. And I have so much baggage with her." John runs his hand over his face in frustration.
Barbara answers. "John, you are doing exactly what you need to be doing to manage the emotional challenges of reuniting with Clara. As for the other stuff, read a book. Screwing up a kid isn't as easy as you would think if you let your love for them guide you, not your guilt. Not your baggage."
"May I offer up some words of wisdom on parenting here?" Joe asks.
"Oh here we go," Barbara rolls her eyes.
"It is all about not raising little assholes.” Joe starts and gets everyone’s attention. “The barometer is restaurants. Raise a kid you enjoy eating out with. Can they sit through a meal, have decent table manners, understand the dynamics of good conversation? You don't hand a two year old an iPad in a restaurant and expect them to develop social skills. Get them talking. Get them thinking. Give a kid a fork. Teach them to eat off a plate. These things are important in the long run. Or you'll never want to eat out with them. And they will never learn to self-regulate and they won't be able to sit in circle time and then they’ll do shitty on their SATs."
"You are a fucking genius!" Anna laughs.
"Well done," John likes Joe more and more.
"Oh god don't encourage him," Barbara laughs. "My Joe and his pearls of wisdom. He'll probably publish this crap someday, and every parent group in the country will be picketing on my front lawn. Anyway, moving on. Including Clara, we know five girls in the two to three range who are here year round and go to The Osprey School. It is a good preschool about eight miles up the road off of Route 10. It’s called The Osprey School for Young Children. They have a good program but it is only nine to one o'clock. I'm sure they have an opening if you are interested for Clara. We are setting up a carpool for the one o'clock pick up. The girls rotate houses, everyone gets one day a week. At each house they are going to do something special. There are no activities out here. No soccer teams, no dance classes. Well I dance, used to dance anyway. So, I’m doing a dance class for the group once a week. We keep them until three-thirty and do an activity and a snack. Interested?"
"That sounds fucking terrifying," John says like they are asking him to storm Normandy.
"What do they do at the other homes?" Anna asks.
Joe counts them off on his fingers. "Mondays they dance with Barbara, Tuesdays they bake with Tommy and his wife Jocelyn. Wednesdays they do art with Trisha and Jose. They own that gallery on the docks. Thursday is nature exploration with Lillian Jones. She runs the conservation center. They meet there. The others are at homes. You could do music," Joe suggests. "We love it because you get an extra two and a half hours a day and they have a great time. We just started. It might also help Clara build some relationships and settle into a routine."
"I am so fucking unprepared for this
," John says tentatively.
"Commit to one week. See what Clara thinks and see how it goes for you. Fridays are okay?" Barbara asks. John nods, slightly unnerved but intrigued too.
"I'll help of course John," Anna offers.
"Yeah? Let's do it then."
Over dessert, Barbara shares that they have been trying to get pregnant for over a year. They are considering in vitro fertilization or adoption for their second child. Getting pregnant with Isabella took three years.
“We went to Africa a few years back, before Isabella. We are thinking of going back to adopt,” Barbara says.
John notices that Anna turns to the ocean, checking out of the conversation.
"Anna?" Barbara asks, also noticing Anna’s sudden distance. "It is the therapist in me? I can see something is on your mind. Spill it.”
Anna tells of her mother in Atlanta with John filling in details from Pemberley's files.
"You two have had a fuck of a year," Joe comments.
Anna and John nod, holding hands, "‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times’," John adds quoting Dickens.
"I'm thinking of going," Anna says quietly.
"Where?" John asks.
"Nothing for certain, but I'm thinking of going to Atlanta to meet her. Then onto Connecticut. I have unfinished business with Pemberley." She avoids John’s face when she says this. "Alone. I'm sorry, now was probably not the best time to drop this on you."
John forces a smile and an understanding, "whatever you need," before getting up to clear the table.
"No no, you cook, we clean. Boys, why don't you leave it to us? Go get your guitars and head down to the beach. Relive some old teenage memories," Barbara suggests. Anna agrees shooing them off.
John grabs the Fender case and walks out the front door with Joe. "Did I just get kicked out of my own house to clear the way for girl talk?"
"Might as well get used to it. I should or shouldn't offer you a beer?" Joe asks.
"Tempting, but I'm going to abstain for a few months."
"Can I ask what you thought of Lane?"
"Dude, you can ask me anything. We are so far past polite conversation. And apparently we have known each other for almost thirty years, so everything is on the table."
"Okay then. So do you and Anna have sex in your outside shower frequently or just on special occasions?" Joe asks with a perfectly straight face.
John’s jaw drops and he sets the Fender down in the street. "Motherfucker," he laughs until his side hurts.
"I'm sorry,” Joe laughs too. “There was literally no way I could resist that. Impressive, truly. We’re going to give it a try."
Joe picks up the Fender for John. They go get his own guitar and make their way to the beach. They settle into the sand and play every song from Pearl Jam's Ten in order and then go back and play them again. Eventually, they realize Anna and Barbara are sitting in the sand watching them in the dark.
"I'll pick you up for rehearsal Monday?" Joe offers.
After a moment's hesitation, John agrees. He’s going to let Joe drive. Anna and John walk back onto John's deck, side by side, but not hand in hand. John rests the Fender against the house and sits down by Anna on the pine glider.
"What a great night,” John says. “They are fantastic. I can't believe he is that same skinny kid from way back when." John keeps his tone light, but he is not happy with Anna’s declaration that she is leaving again. They need to figure out their life here together and Anna needs to take care of herself.
"Just lovely people,” Anna comments. “So much fun. Great dinner too John, as always." She kisses him and tries to kiss him hard, but he pulls back and searches her face, trying to understand what is going on inside of her head. Travelling alone, touring the east coast is a bad idea. It is reckless. She offers no answer to the questions she must know he is silently asking. John doesn’t hide his feelings as well as Anna does, but Anna offers nothing.
"Darling, I'm a little tired tonight,” John says and gets up to go inside, alone. “I'll see you tomorrow."
Anna sits still momentarily, with a slight pout. "Okay, good night John." Without another word, she walks off the deck and heads to her house. John watches her until she is safely inside 517 and then goes inside to watch a movie.
Monday, Anna and John drive to the obstetrician outside of Charleston. Dr. Shari Singh delivered Isabella, and Barbara recommends her highly. They learn that Anna is seven weeks pregnant with a due date of April 25th. The internal sonogram shows the pregnancy is progressing normally. Anna exhales long and slow when hearing this news, seeming relieved and maybe a little surprised. She takes John’s hand and looks happier than she has in days.
After the exam, Anna and John join Dr. Singh in her office. "Anna, I see on your chart that you lost a pregnancy late term. At nearly six months. Can you tell me a little about that so we can have a clearer picture of what is happening now?"
"I had an accident. I fell down the stairs," Anna gives as brief an explanation as possible. She is uncomfortable with this narrative in front of John.
"Anna, I am so sorry," Dr. Singh says with great sincerity. "There are no words. You and the baby both look great. Take your vitamins, get some exercise and eat whatever you want. You could use a few extra pounds."
"Dr. Singh,” John asks, “would it be safe for Anna to travel on her own? A lot of driving?" Anna shoots him a look, but he ignores it.
"Yes, I think so, with frequent breaks,” Dr. Singh reassures John. “As long as she listens to the needs of her body, Anna will be fine. A pregnancy should not be treated as an illness. She should live her life, fully and happily.”
Anna gives him an 'I told you so' smirk. "Dr. Singh, one last thing,” Anna says. If John wants to play hardball, she is willing. “John’s first wife, his late wife, suffered severe postpartum depression. She committed suicide. I worry that John is on suicide watch for me already."
John raises his eyebrows, visibly stunned that Anna is throwing around his shit for a little payback. She almost laughs, but it is not funny.
“Just letting it all hang out Anna,” he says with more drawl than usual.
Dr. Singh looks at him with overwhelming sympathy. Anna knows John hates that look of pity. She feels a little bit bad for taking them down this road, but it is important and he deserved it.
“John, it is good for me to know anything that might impact this pregnancy or this baby’s parents. I should know this. John, what a terrible tragedy. It is also very rare." Dr. Singh looks back and forth between them. "Are you getting the support you need from each other? Maybe from a professional?" They nod, both ready to stop talking. "You must find a way to let go of these past tragedies and welcome this new baby into your lives. Please enjoy this."
John rises first, shaking Dr. Singh's hand, thanking her. Anna follows suit. They take the elevator to the ground floor in silence. Once they are outside the building, John sits on a bench and Anna joins him, taking his hand in hers.
"We are so fucked up Anna. How the hell are we together?"
"I think Lynn saw something in us. She knew we were meant to be together. With all of our fuck-upedness," Anna says seriously.
“I think my parents helped too,” John muses.
“What do you mean?”
“Brian had an investigator tracking me while I was away. I think my Mom had Lynn tracking me since I called for the house in March. I think you weren’t a random renter next door.”
Anna laughs hard. “Seriously? I knew that rent was too good to be true. At least, they got their money’s worth. A grandbaby and all. I was an excellent choice.”
“This is so fucking weird.” John rest his elbows on his knees and faces the ground shaking his head in disbelief mixed with shame.
“No John. It is really fucking fantastic. This is how much they love you.” Anna rubs his shoulder offering comfort in their world of crazy.
“Can we do this?” he asks.
She answers defin
itively, “We can.”
"I need to give you more breathing room don't I? Living in separate houses isn't enough."
She nods, but he doesn’t see it. She is saddened that she has to put him through this. Her need to go is not as great as his need for her to stay. She'll go anyway. “I’d like to go John,” she says. “I don’t want to start our life together with all of these loose ends.”
He still faces the ground. "Anna, after Sarah killed herself, when they found her… when I found her, it was so violent. It seemed too violent for a suicide, they thought I had killed her and staged a suicide. They took me into custody. There was video of me crazy as shit, screaming, covered in blood, psychotic. It was damning if you believe everything you see on the six o’clock news. They didn't charge me, but they thought I did that to my wife and baby. It sent me over the edge. You might as well know it all."
“I already know John.”
“You do?”
“Google is really something. You should try it.”
She gives him a few moments to absorb it, then shares her own secret. "John, I tried to kill Dylan," Anna says quickly before she loses her nerve.
John exhales slowly and sits up to face her. His face is impassive, but she can see his masked surprise.
"Now it's all out I think," she says. "After I lost the baby, I was out of my mind. A few weeks later, I was driving. I was buckled and he wasn’t, so I drove us into a tree on his side of the car. So, you can rest easy, John, that I'm not suicidal, but I'm an attempted murderess," Anna announces. “Dylan wasn’t hurt badly in the accident. He just a broken rib or two and had a slight concussion. I should have disabled the damn air bags. Anyway, because we were at Hopkins and the care he received was inappropriately excellent, they did an MRI to check for bleeds and instead they found the brain tumor. Just like his father’s.”
Circling The Shadows Page 23